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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466843">fALsEhOOd</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltalocke/pseuds/Locke%20Redwyne'>Locke Redwyne (deltalocke)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Characters are mean, Cussing, Everyone Is Gay, Haphephobia, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Swearing, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Unsympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unsympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, and one intrusive thot, at least, attempted slow burn, but slow burn is more fun soooo, characters are oblivious, characters are stubborn, everyone assumes things, everyone jumps to conclusions, no one knows the full story, remus is remus, sorry if i write it badly, writing this tempts me to shove them together and tell them theyre gay and in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltalocke/pseuds/Locke%20Redwyne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>CURRENTLY ON HIATUS-- I apologize for any inconveniences. Will be resumed at a later date.</p><p>My au of the Thomasverse!!</p><p>Ships cause tags are confusing: romantic Virgil x Roman, romantic Logan x Patton, romantic &amp; sexual Logan x Remus, romantic Patton x Janus, queerplatonic Virgil x Roman x Janus, platonic Patton x Logan x Remus</p><p>Implied sexual content only, nothing explicit. No smut here!!</p><p>TW's: So far, only panic attacks and not yet written unhealthy relationships (but that's where this is headed). Each chapter will have warnings of any tw's in that chapter at the beginning of the chapter (in a notes thing much like this). If I miss any, please let me know!!</p><p>Also, this summary, the rating, and the tags will be updated as I determine how dark I want to go with the story. If I decide to take a darker turn, and that inconveniences you, I sincerely apologize. I just may not go any darker than what I'm at right now, or I could use it as an outlet for the darkness in my life irl, I haven't decided.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman/Dark Creativity | Remus/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton (Sanders Sides), Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders &amp; Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One- Virgil POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW food, eating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Take it easy, guys, gals, and non-binary, pals, peace out! </p><p> Thomas finishes another video, and I gladly retire to my room. Even though I've been enjoying everyone's company, it's still exhausting, and I can't wait to lose myself in my music. Speaking of which, I grab my headphones, slip them on, and hit shuffle on my playlist. I skip through a few Panic! and Set It Off songs before I realize what I want to hear right now. I scroll through my library until I find the collab album between Frank Iero and The Future Violents. I climb into my hammock as the music starts, like scratching some sort of itch inside of me. I lay that way, content, and fall asleep before the album ends.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>I wake up to a knock on the door the next morning, and Patton inviting me to come downstairs before Roman eats the last waffle. I heave a sigh, running a hand down my face. Waking up is always the worst part of any day. Maybe some music would help. I reach towards my nightstand- Oh, that's right I fell asleep listening to music. I adjust my headphones and hit play, then realize I'm not in the mood for Barriers and switch it to Vices and Virtues. <i> Let's Kill Tonight </i> starts playing, and I sort through the clothes on my floor. I should do my laundry- and stop sleeping in my clothes, I note, as I peel my jacket off and see the lines the zipper left on my arms. I shrug on a Black Parade tee and a ripped-up pair of skinny jeans, then pull my jacket back on. I don't leave my room without it; it's comforting to me and helps keep me grounded. I toss my clothes from yesterday towards a pile of clothes I think are the dirty ones, but I have Thomas' throwing skills and they land several feet away from my intended target. </p><p> I head down to the kitchen, where Logan is reading a newspaper (he'll do the crossword at lunch). Patton is cooking waffles and making an absolute mess, as usual. Princey has Disney songs playing too loudly and is belting the lyrics. Also, unfortunately, as usual. Don't get me wrong; I'm a Disney fan, but not like that. He's dancing around the living room, using a remote as a mic, which is less usual.</p><p> "Seriously, Princey, can we have a single peaceful morning without your theatrics?" I ask him, hearing the irritation in my own tone.</p><p> "That sounds horrifically boring," he replies, climbing onto the back of the couch. He's singing 'How Far I'll Go' from Moana, and launches into a parody directed at me.</p><p> "You say that you want me to stop singing,
But what better way to end repose?
But you just listen to me, Brendon Urie, 
I'll have you know, someday I'll be having you join my solo!" </p><p> I roll my eyes. That was pretty clever. But he already has enough ego without me stroking it.</p><p> "There's a reason you're the fanciful, dreaming side. You're out of touch with reality," I tell him, grabbing a plate and a waffle.</p><p> He gasps as I slide into a chair. "Such rude words from-"</p><p> "Hey, you two, play nice!" Patton interjects, a friendly warning in his voice. I scoff, grabbing the jam from in front of Logan and opening it.</p><p> "Seriously, you finished off the jam?" I turn to Logan. He holds up a finger to me, signifying he's in the middle of a paragraph.</p><p> "Sorry, what were you saying," he says more than asks, setting the newspaper down and turning to me.</p><p> "Why did you finish off the jam? You knew I was going to want some; you didn't have to be selfish and take it all!" I've seen the amount of jam he puts on his waffles. Hell, I've seen him inhale the jam straight from the jar.</p><p> "Excuse me. I do not understand your upsetness over something that only exists in one person's imagination. You can simply summon another jar. Your outburst is nonsensical.”</p><p> I growl, frustrated. "It's the thought that counts. Aren't you supposed to be good at thinking?"</p><p> "Woah, Virgil, what's gotten into you this morning?" Patton asks, setting down the bowl of waffle batter he was mixing with a concerned look on his face. "You haven't been this grumpy in a while. Did you not sleep well, kiddo?"</p><p> "That could be very possible, given the-"</p><p> "Logan, shut up," I cut him off, speaking deliberately.</p><p> Logan looks affronted, straightens his tie, and does the exact opposite of what I just told him to do. "I was going to say, given the negative side effects of sleep deprivation and your nighttime habits, that is a distinct possibility. But with your reaction, I think it's safe to say it's more than just a possibility. In fact, -"</p><p> I growl again, pulling my hood over my head and shoving my plain waffle down my throat as quickly as I can, then run to my room. Does he ever stop talking? Or Roman stop singing? Or Patton stop patronizing- pun purposefully excluded- me? I'm <i> Anxiety </i>, not some child for them to ignore. When they don't take me seriously, bad things happen. You would think the others would have realized this by now. But no, they treat me like some sort of child. I mean, Patton calls me his "strange dark child." I've asked him to stop but he still acts like he's my dad. Logan just brings up fancy facts and complicated language so we'll believe him because he obviously knows more, and he acts like I'm stupid or something because of it. Just because I can't quote famous philosophers or pinpoint exactly what's wrong all the time, doesn't mean I don't have helpful contributions.</p><p> And Roman's the worst, he's constantly insulting me, coming up with rude nicknames, and brushing me aside. He's so self-centered, I sometimes wonder if he realizes Thomas is in the driver's seat, not him. He thinks he can do anything and everything, without any help from the rest of us, but if it weren't for us other sides, he'd have Thomas do something crazy that would embarrass him beyond all belief and probably get him hurt. He dreams these... crazy, fantastical, wild dreams that are completely unrealistic and only serve to hurt Thomas. Why can't he just tone it down and be helpful? Not to mention his pride and ego, he is the worst at working with the group, and he is horrible at compromise. He drives me crazy. Sometimes, I just want to shake him until he realizes how arrogant he is.</p><p>I sigh to myself and snuggle into a purple bean bag, grabbing a video game controller and headset to help get my mind off things. There's no use stressing Thomas out any more than I have to at the moment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two- Patton POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW food, eating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> “Hey, kid- I-I mean, friendo, do ya wanna come and watch a movie with us?” I quickly correct myself, remembering what he said earlier during that video. It sounded like he’d been holding onto it for a while. He really doesn’t like it when I treat him like a kid, I guess. But how else am I supposed to treat him? He’s my strange dark child. Well, at least I can make an effort. That’s what any good dad would do. “I’ll be making <i>pop</i>corn,” I laugh, listening for a reaction. I grin when I hear a quiet snort, glad to have made him laugh a little. </p>
<p> “Sure, just give me a minute,” Virgil replies, and I hum happily as I head downstairs, flipping the hood of my cat onesie onto my head. I snuggle up into the corner of the couch, the comfiest spot in the living room. Logan is sitting by the armrest to my right, and Roman is on the beanbag to my left. Virgil comes down a few minutes later and lays upside down on the couch, half his body on the floor. I’m the only one in a onesie, but that’s fine. At some point, I’ll convince everyone to wear onesies to one of our movie nights. We could invite Thomas, too! That would be a good time. Roman puts on Aladdin, and we all settle in. </p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> When the movie ends, Roman switches it to the Lion King. Logan heads for the bathroom, and Virgil turns to me. </p>
<p>“I was promised popcorn?” he reminds me, sliding off the couch and stealing Roman’s beanbag chair for a pillow. </p>
<p>"Oh, yes!" I exclaim, going into the kitchen and starting on the popcorn. It's done in no time and I pour it into bowls. I distribute the bowls as the opening scenes play. </p>
<p>I don't even realize it until I'm the only one singing, but the others have fallen asleep. Logan has his head propped on his hand, and Roman is sitting on the beanbag avoiding Virgil's head. I realize Virgil's awake when he turns to shush me when I sing a little loud. Right, I should probably let the others sleep. I sing quietly, losing myself in the movie again. </p>
<p>The end credits roll and I'm turning off the TV and putting the DVDs away when I hear Roman mutter something about a sexy salad <b> (a/n inside joke) </b> . I turn to scold him when I realize he's talking in his sleep. He moves and slumps onto Virgil's shoulder, who looks at him as if the creative side is going to infect him with something. I watch as Virgil's look turns very confused, then panicked as he shoves Roman off him and bolts upstairs. His door slams shut a few seconds later, leaving me in shock. </p>
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<p> Wha- what just happened? </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three- Roman POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW panic attack</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> You know when you're falling asleep and you get that sudden sensation you're about to plummet to your death from the great heights of the tallest cliffs in your kingdom? That's what I wake up to. Except I'm actually falling, onto the ground. I see Virgil dashing up the stairs as my head collides with the ground. Patton slides over, making sure I'm okay. I absent-mindedly reassure him as I stare up the stairs where Virgil disappeared. What was all that about?</p><p> "Why'd he run off?" I ask Logan, trying to get Patton to stop worrying about me.</p><p> "He didn't say," Logan replies, straightening his tie. "I'm going to bed now; a good night's sleep is important."</p><p> "Wait, what about Virgil?" I ask.</p><p> "Yeah, we gotta help him," Patton adds.</p><p>"You're being very helpful, sitting down here talking about it."</p><p> I huff and start up the stairs, Patton dragging Logan after me. I bang on Virgil's door, but there's no answer. I try the doorknob, but it's locked so I step back and kick it down. I burst into the dark and cobwebby space, taking a moment for my eyes to adjust. I quickly spot him curled up at the foot of a bed that doesn't look like used. There's a white rope hammock above it with messy purple blankets; I'll bet that's where he sleeps. His hood is up and his hands are covering his face as he quickly breathes in shaky breaths. I kneel down next to him, putting my hand on his back and trying to figure out what's wrong. Patton sits down next to me, asking Virgil questions that go unanswered. Logan crouches down and analyzes the situation.</p><p> "It appears he's having a panic attack," he stands up, watching from near the door frame.</p><p> "Well, how do we help him?" I ask, a little panicked myself. "We just have to like, calm him down, right? What calms Virgil down?"</p><p> I look to the others in hopes of an answer, but none of us have a clue. Do we really not know him at all? </p><p> "Well, what calms you down?" I ask them. Maybe that will help? </p><p> Logan conjures a Rubix cube and tosses it at Virgil. It ends up hitting him on the back and bouncing off, without much of a reaction from the hyperventilating side. </p><p> I whip around to face Logan. "Oh, yes, calm him down by throwing things at him. Is that what calms you down? I'll remember that the next time you're overwhelmed!" I try to keep from startling the shaking side, so my voice comes out as a whisper-scream. </p><p> "I only-” </p><p> "Cookies!!" Patton interrupts, desperately searching through his pockets. "Cookies always help!!" I stare at him until he stops, looking a little defeated. "Well, what about a hug, that would help him, right, Logan?" </p><p>Logan shakes his head. "No, that could scare him worse when he's having an attack this severe." </p><p> I stare at Virgil. There has to be something I can do to help. I'm the hero, the one who saves the day. It's my purpose to save everyone, so I should be able to help him. Well, what calms me down? That's obvious. Well, here goes. </p><p> "I can show you the world/Shining, shimmering, splendid/Tell me, prince, now when did/You last let your heart decide?" </p><p> I finish the first chorus before there's any difference. That's okay; sometimes, it takes a few songs to calm me down. Virgil's breathing eases a little, and he shuffles a little closer to me. I gently rub a small circle on his shoulder, hoping that will help as well. I finish the song and start another one, not really paying attention to which one. </p><p> After a few more songs, Virgil lifts his head and meets my eyes. His breathing is still shaky, but he seems in control and much better now. He breaks eye contact to look over at Patton and Logan. </p><p> "How are ya doing, kid- ah, Virgil?" Patton asks, breaking the silence </p><p> "Um, better, thanks to you guys," he replies quietly. </p><p> I snort. "Not thanks to Logan and him throwing stuff everywhere." </p><p> "Excu-" </p><p> Virgil picks up the Rubix cube from where it landed near him, gives it a spin, and throws it back at Logan, whom it hits in the shin. Logan yelps and picks up the cube, which is now entirely purple. </p><p> "Thanks, you guys, I appreciate everything, but I should probably get some sleep, I'm pretty tired now." </p><p> I nod. I'm exhausted, I need to get to bed as well. Standing up, I say an awkward good night and leave the dim room, heading to mine. It's much lighter in here, with fairy lights and potted plants here and there accentuating the gray stone walls. I change into a pair of red and white pajamas and collapse onto my white bed sheets, staring up at the red canopy. Random thoughts filter through my head as I notice a few physical changes. For one, it's a lot warmer and more humid in my room than his. Also, my light is more yellow-tinted and soft while the lights in his room are bluer and harsher. It smells like stone and leaves and life in here; romance and adventure are practically in the air. In his room, it feels like an old house, one that's been around for hundreds of years </p><p> I know that all our rooms are different, and I've been in Patton and Logan's rooms before, but I never really noticed the differences this much. Huh. Weird. I climb under the covers and close my eyes, eagerly awaiting some much-needed beauty sleep. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four- Virgil POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> I fell asleep at a decent time last night, which results in me waking up fairly early this morning. I stretch my arms, leaning over the edge of my hammock to peer at the clock. It's well before Roman and Patton will be up, and I don't feel like talking to Logan. Sometimes, an unending source of knowledge can be dangerous for anxiety. I look around my room as I sit up, taking in the webs strung around the corners, the sparse lighting, and the mess of clothes. </p><p> I reach for the other sides quietly, making sure they’re all in their rooms, then reveal one thing I’ve never shown them. I stretch my extra limbs out of the place where they normally hide under my hoodie, extruding from my torso. Much longer than my humanoid limbs, I stretch them out, careful not to bump the walls or ceiling too much. I share walls with Roman and Patton, and I don’t want either of them walking in on me like this. They finally see me as one of them and I don’t want this to ruin it. </p><p> I stretch my limbs over the edge of my hammock and use them to stand, my body suspended over my floor. They’re a lot weaker than they used to be, given I have barely used them for the past four years, scared that the others will find out. But I still need to exercise them; they get cramped from being curled under my hoodie all the time. Even though I can’t share this with the others, I’m kind of proud of my fauna-related ability and wish I could use it more often. I put my four extra limbs to work, using all eight to quickly clean my room, sorting the laundry and putting things where they belong. In less than half an hour, my room is super neat. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing order restored. Organizing and cleaning always help me; I’m not sure why I put it off so much. </p><p> I pace the length of my room. I'm unwilling to curl my extra limbs back up, and reluctant to leave the safety of this space. I settle for using my limbs to reach up to the ceiling and let myself dangle upside down. The blood rushes to my head, which is comforting. I’m not really sure why, but this always seems to help me when I want to think. I hang there, letting my thoughts stream through my head without paying any particular attention to any of them. </p><p> A loud banging causes me to lose my grip on the ceiling and fall to the floor. Light pours through my opening door and I panic, pulling my extra limbs into my hoodie as quickly as I can, quietly cursing myself for not locking the door. Roman bursts through the door, looking wildly around my room before spotting me on the floor just as I finish folding my limbs back in. Occasionally, the length is nice, so that they don’t get in the way of my other limbs, but mostly they’re too long to hide comfortably. I wish I didn’t have to fear the others seeing them, like how <b>[REDACTED]<b> never have to hide themselves. </b></b></p>
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</p><p> “Virgil, are you okay?!” he asks, out of breath. He rushes over to me as I hurriedly adjust my limbs to be sure he can’t notice the excess ones. He gently puts pressure on my cheek until I meet his eyes, concern scribbled over his features. “Hey, Virgil, what’s wrong?” </p><p> I realize he’s freaking out a little because I haven’t responded yet. “Uh, nothing. What are you doing in my room?” I push him away, not used to the physical contact.</p><p> “I was just- uh, I had a- I mean, I had a- a bad feeling, yeah, and I was going to check in on everyone!” He gets the hint and stands up, leaning awkwardly in my doorjamb.</p><p> I stare at him. I think he might be lying, but I’m no <b>[REDACTED]<b>.“Um. Okay. Where’s everyone else?” </b></b></p>
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</p><p> “Huh?” </p><p> “If you’re checking in on everyone, where are they?” I repeat, confused by his actions. He’s usually so self-assured and confident. </p><p> “I… uh, was just about to- uh, yeah.” He motions to the others’ rooms but stays in my doorway. </p><p> I just stare at him. “Dragon witch got your tongue?” I snark, snapping him out of his- whatever that was. </p><p> He scowls at me. “Well, no need to check on you, Mr. Sunshine. You’re as rude as ever.” He turns and leaves, making my shelves rattle as he shuts my door. I hear him go back into his room, slamming his own door. That’s strange, what happened to him checking on the others? </p><p> I think back to last night. Back to looking down at Roman as he shifted his head onto my shoulder, leaning heavily onto me and muttering someone I didn’t quite catch. I stared down at his face, regal even in slumber. His eyelashes fluttered and twitched, probably dreaming about saving people. A spike of adrenaline raced through my body and I felt my muscles tense. I looked down at the sleeping prince in confusion. Was I… did I have a crush on Roman? Another flash of adrenaline rushed through my veins, then another. No! Not right now, I can’t- I was actually enjoying myself!! I can’t do this in front of the others, either! What if they think I’m weak? My panicking didn’t help, filling my veins with lightning as I scrambled up the stairs and into my room as quickly as I could.  </p><p> The next thing I remember, Roman was singing with his arm around me, Patton crouching on the floor nearby, and Logan standing by the door analyzing the situation. Crap!! I tried to hide my shame from them and got them to leave as quickly as I could. I’m really not sure why they were all in there since Logan doesn’t like dealing with emotions, and Princey hates me. </p><p> Last night was weird. But at least I don’t have a crush on Roman. </p><p> A cheery frog ribbit sound clip plays on the other side of the wall I share with Patton, indicating that he’ll be up and making breakfast soon. I sigh and approach my mirror, getting out my makeup to finish getting ready for the day. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five- Logan POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW food, eating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up at my usual time to begin working on the day’s tasks. It’s not officially mandatory, but I enjoy the task of figuring out different aspects of Thomas’ day and lining his tasks up for him in the most logical order, even if he ignores them. This way, he can, and sometimes does, choose to do his duties in the logical order. This is optimal over only having the others’ input on the matter, as they are not as focused on improving Thomas’ physical health and intellect as I am.</p><p> I hear a crash from Virgil’s room, followed by some snarky conversation between him and Roman and their doors slamming. Those two fight too much for Thomas’s good. Virgil is very sensitive about being insulted, but he insults Roman regardless. Roman performs actions that he knows will upset Virgil, sometimes, I think, just to upset him. I refocus myself on my work until Patton calls for us to come downstairs for breakfast. I hold back a grimace as I leave my room, prepared for something under- or overcooked, or just made wrong. He has good intentions in cooking for us, but his skills are severely lacking. I’m surprised to find Virgil already downstairs, crouched on the counter and spooning dark chocolate Krave into his mouth. I’m not sure why he doesn’t sit in a chair, but I’ve learned not to question it by now. </p><p> “Virgil suggested we change it up and have some cereal today!” Patton says cheerily, pushing the raisin bran over to me. I raise an eyebrow at Virgil, who shrugs in response and keeps eating cereal. Patton is eating honey nut Cheerios with far too much milk. I have formulated the perfect cereal-to-milk ratio in order to obtain the most desirable cereal taste with the right amount of crunch. Unfortunately, none of the other sides seem to understand the process of preparing edible food.</p><p> Roman comes down a few minutes later, stomping down the stairs. He snatched the box of Lucky Charms Patton offers him and looks through drawers and cupboards for a bowl and spoon with far more force than necessary. Is he attempting to break something or get someone’s attention? I can't tell.</p><p> “Hey, Roman, buddy, what’s up?” Patton asks. I notice that all three of us are staring at him. He is far from his usual upbeat self. I think back to the past few days, considering what could be causing this apparent negative mood. </p><p> Roman looks over at him and huffs. “I had a horrible nightmare. It was terrible!” </p><p> “Well, it was just a dream,” I point out, hoping this isn’t new information. “It wasn’t real.” </p><p> Roman avoids eye contact, dunking marshmallows in milk. “Well, yeah, but… It just felt so real, you know?” </p><p> “I don’t know.” Why would I know? I’m Logic, he’s Creativity. I do not have wild dreams like him.  </p><p> "What happened in your dream?" Patton asks. </p><p> "It- I... Uh," he stops and restarts, seemingly unable to phrase what he is attempting to say. </p><p> "Was your dream that 'bad feeling' you rushed into my room this morning with?" Virgil asks, suspicion lacing his voice. </p><p> "Yes, Virgil, it was. I'm <i> sorry </i> for showing concern," Roman replies, with what I suspect is sarcasm. </p><p> "Yeah, but why me? You didn't check in on any of the others," Virgil points out. </p><p> It's silent for forty-seven seconds in which Virgil stares at Roman who stares at his cereal. Patton sits looking uncomfortable and wanting to help while I attempt to understand why they are so dramatic about everything. </p><p> Roman finally sighs. "Fine, I had a dream that something bad happened to you, Virgil, are you happy now?" I don't know much about emotions, but Virgil seems much more confused than happy. Roman gets up, puts his bowl in the sink, and heads up the stairs, not waiting for his response. </p><p> "Surprised you aren't celebrating," Virgil mutters, taking care of his own dishes and going over to the couch to watch some TV. </p><p> I frown. Roman may not be enamored with Virgil, but it seems highly unlikely he'd wish harm on the other side. I believe some open dialogue between the two would benefit all parties, but neither of them seem likely to engage in that. I make a mental note to try and reconcile the two for Thomas's good. </p><p> "Hey, Logan," Patton says, sliding into the seat next to me at the table. "What're you up to today?" he asks, resting his face on his hands. </p><p> I slide my itinerary over to him, finishing my cereal. "Finishing planning out today's schedule, making a grocery list, determining what needs to be done by the end of the week, figuring out the next step in becoming more efficient, then figuring out the conflict between Roman and Virgil." </p><p> "Oh! Sounds like you have a lot on your plate, huh?" </p><p> "I like to be busy," I tell him, unsure of why he's asking. </p><p> "Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go do something. I didn't really have anything planned today." </p><p> "There are plenty of moral issues Thomas needs cleared up," I point out. Patton seems to embrace his role the least of all of us. I am constantly figuring out the most logical solution, Roman is always busy dreaming up ridiculous ideas, and Virgil is always causing Thomas to be more anxious and worry. Patton, however, instead of tackling moral issues, makes too many puns and tries to distract the rest of us from our work. Thomas isn't five anymore; we have to fill our positions. Even the <b>[REDACTED]</b> do their jobs better than Patton does his.</p><p> "Well... there aren't that many. But also, I was hoping to maybe hang out? If you want." </p><p> "I'm sorry, but I have tasks to attend to and I suggest that you do the same," I tell him. He seems unhappy about this, but sometimes, in order to get to a place of higher efficiency, there is a degree of unhappiness before you adjust to your new habits. </p><p> “Well… I’ll let you get to that,” Patton says quietly, getting up and going upstairs to his room. That’s weird of him. Oh, well. He’s not the most predictable side. Virgil looks over at me. </p><p> “You don’t have to be mean to him,” he says. </p><p> “Mean?” I wasn’t mean, I was honest. I’m just trying to get Patton to do what he’s supposed to so that all of us can work together more efficiently. “How was I mean? I was merely truthful with him. He is the least productive side, and it would be beneficial to all of us if he were to actually do what he’s supposed to, instead of goofing off all the time.” </p><p> “Logan, he’s Thomas’s inner child, of course he’s going to be goofing off. That is part of his role.” </p><p> “Virgil, Thomas is an adult. And while you should enjoy life, you can be efficient and still enjoy life.” </p><p> Virgil shakes his head. “How can you be so smart and still so oblivious?” He gets up, turning off the TV and heading upstairs. I sit for a second, puzzling over that. I’m not oblivious, I’m the smartest side. Perhaps he isn't seeing things right. He’s probably misinterpreting what’s going on. Patton and I are fine; we’re friends.  Virgil is just overthinking things like he always does. </p><p> Satisfied with this conclusion, I take care of my dishes and head to my room, settling in for a fulfilling day of work. </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter Six- Roman POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> I’m in the middle of working on my new masterpiece when I hear a knock on the door. Who’s interrupting me? Seriously? I’m in the middle of something significant. </p><p> “What?” I snap, dabbing a bit more spring green in one spot. </p><p> “I need to talk to you,” comes Virgil’s voice. I can barely hear him through the door and from how quiet he’s talking. Wrinkling my brow, I set my palette and brush down. Is he going to apologize for being an ass this morning? Knowing how stuck-up he is, I doubt it, but what else could he be coming in here about? Is he going to try and ruin more of my projects? Maybe I shouldn’t let him in if that’s why he’s here. </p><p> “Come to tear down another idea?” I ask, taking off my paint frock and rinsing the paint from my hands. </p><p> “What? No, this isn’t about you.” </p><p> Not about me? What? </p><p> “Look, can I just come in?” Virgil sounds irritated now. I guess I can hear him out. I check my hair in the mirror, making sure there’s no paint in it or on my face, but all I see is perfection, as usual. </p><p> “Sure,” I sigh, turning towards the door. He walks in, closing the door behind him. I brace myself for derogatory remarks and mocking, teasing comments about my dream. Instead, I’m met with: </p><p> “We need to do something about Patton and Logan.” </p><p> "What do you mean, Doom and Gloom? They've been getting along pretty well lately," I fire back. Thomas already smoothed things out between them. I haven't noticed too much conflict between the two. </p><p> "Well, yeah, but I wasn't talking about them getting along. I meant Patton's crush on Logan." </p><p> "Since when do you care about romance?" I blurt. Oops, I should be more agreeable. "I just meant, that's usually much more my department, and you don't take as much of an interest in it." </p><p> He sighs. “I usually don’t, but it’s painful, even for me, to see Patton flirting with Logan and him being so dense and oblivious. I can’t stand it anymore.” </p><p> I frown at him. “What’s wrong with Patton flirting with Logan? Are you going to start hating on love now, Dreary B. Jones?” I honestly find it cute to see Patton attempting romance; he’s the only other one out of the sides to be interested in love beside me. Honestly, it’s disappointing. Romance is so rapturing and captivating. How could any alloromantic not be interested? Thomas feels very romantically though, so how could so few of us be interested in romance? I mean, Thomas already had us tell each other we loved each other during the Valentine's day episode for self-love, and I am on a mission to learn to love myself. </p><p> “What? No, there’s nothing wrong with it, what’s wrong is that Logan is so oblivious it hurts, we need to just get them together already.” </p><p> Am I correctly hearing the words coming out of his mouth? </p><p> “Why would <i>you</i> care about romance and whether or not they’re together?” </p><p> Virgil takes a step back towards the door, wrapping his arms around himself. “Cause... Is it so hard to believe that I just want them to be happy?” </p><p> “Yes, yes it is so hard to believe. You always freak out whenever anything remotely romantic happens. You’ve never been for anything romantic, why would you now. And anyway, you always veto anything I like, and romance has my name in it!!” I half believe he doesn’t like romance just because of it. </p><p> “I’m not opposed to romance!! I’m just opposed to new things and change!!” Virgil takes a step forward, gesturing with his hands. “Romance is good; I just don’t like all of the possibilities of something going wrong!! Like how friends help me, boyfriends help me too; there are just a lot more commitments and possibilities to screw things up!” </p><p>“If you’re not opposed to romance, then…” Huh, I’ve always thought he was super against romance. “Well, what do you propose?” </p><p> Virgil seems to fold in on himself. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and he pauses a lot. “I dunno… That’s why I came to you, I figured since that’s much more of your specialty, you’d know what to do.” </p><p> I grin, jumping onto the chest at the end of my bed, gesturing with my hands as I shout, “Yes, yes, I do!! We shall form our own duo to bring the two together in the most beautiful romance there has ever been if it’s the last thing I do!” I’m so excited about this!! I jump off the chest, bending my knees slightly and landing with a <i>thud</i> before rushing over to my giant whiteboard, wiping off whatever I had written on it before, that’s no longer important, I have a new masterpiece to work on!! I scramble around my room, finding my markers from where they’re scattered and stand before the board, tapping my chin with my favorite red one and trying to pinpoint a specific idea to write down. </p><p>“Uh, Roman?” </p><p> Virgil voice makes me jump, and I turn to him quickly before calming down. “What? What’s up?”</p><p> He stares at me for a second and I run through all the possibilities of what he could be saying my name for. Oh! He doesn’t have a marker; I should probably give him a little space to input if we’re supposed to be working together to get the strict nerd and the dad-child together. I toss a purple dry erase marker at him, which lands a couple feet from his bare ones. He flinches back, then looks at me. </p><p> “Why are you throwing things at me?!” he asks, panic evident in his voice, gesturing between me and the marker. “You know I can’t catch things!!” </p><p> “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say quickly, speed-walking over to him, picking up the marker and handing it to him. “Here,” I tell him, steering him towards the board by his shoulders. “You can write down ideas, too. But stick to that corner, I need a lot of room to brainstorm,” I wink, but I’m not really joking. Hey, I’m the prince, I need a lot of space. </p><p> “Oh, uh… okay,” Virgil says, uncapping the marker and staring at the board, holding the marker in his left hand, chewing on his right thumb. A bit of purple hair falls into his eyes and he blinks, not noticing as he stares at the board. I reach out and brush the hair out of his eyes, brushing against his forehead. He’s warmer than I’d expec- </p><p> “hISSSSSSSSSSSSSSss” </p><p> I jump back at his reaction as he flinches backward. </p><p> “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Princey?” he hisses, voice low. </p><p> I…. I- What the hell was I doing? Why do I care if his violet hair falls in his mismatched emerald and amethyst eyes? And why would I fix it, instead of telling him to fix it himself? I feel hot, too. Am I coming down with something? Maybe I need to get some rest. </p><p> “I was just… trying to help you out, you creepy cookie. You had hair in your eyes. Sorry if that’s too nice for you.” </p><p> “Don’t ever touch me again,” he says, voice low. He caps the marker and sets down firmly on the lip of the whiteboard, actions deliberate. He heads towards the door, calling, “Asking for your help was a mistake, remind me to <i>never</i> do that again.” </p><p> The door slams behind him, leaving me feeling like my own sword has been buried deep in my beautifully chiseled chest. Why do his words hurt me so much? It’s not like they are particularly descriptive or original, they’ve been said before many times. It feels as if the venom in his voice is real, a poison injected into my blood by my own <b>[REDACTED]</b>. A toxin worming its way through my veins and arteries, into my heart, and to my head. My favorite marker slips out of my hand and I sit on my bed, head in my hands. </p><p>I feel overwhelmed by sadness and guilt. I seem to screw so many things up. If I’m supposed to save people, why do I hurt them so much? Sometimes it feels as if they need protection from me. </p><p> But why did Virgil get so upset? I just fixed his hair. Any commoner like him should be lucky to have their hair fixed by <i>the prince</i>. So why don’t I feel like the prince around him? I feel more like he’s the royalty and I’m the commoner, waving through the crowds of people in hopes of gaining his attention. I try to brush it off, insult him to remind myself of our places, but it doesn’t seem to work; it just hurts him, which hurts <i>me</i>. </p><p> It’s almost like I- </p><p> No. I can’t- I <i> refuse </i> to have a crush on the gloomy emo. Anyway, if our most recent interaction is anything to go by, he has no interest whatsoever. </p><p> My options are clear. I can either bury myself in getting Patton and Logan together and ignore my feelings towards Virgil- whatever they may be, but I definitely <i>cannot</i> have a crush on him. My other option is to woo Virgil with as much gusto as I can and make <i> him </i> fall in love with <i> me </i>. Wait, no, why would I want that?? The first option, of course! </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter Seven- Logan POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This took way longer than it should have, I'm so sorry!! Logan is just really difficult for me to write...</p>
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    <p>I’m in the middle of debating whether or not throwing my laptop at the gremlin in the corner would be enough to shut him up for a few goddamn seconds when Roman bursts into my room. I can feel the gremlin immediately sink out, keeping Roman from acknowledging his existence yet. I ignore what might have been disappointment, if I had feelings, towards the little gremlin leaving. Strangely enough, I find myself enjoying his company, even if that isn’t the most logical reaction. I wonder when he will reveal himself to the others and stop hiding.</p><p> “I think Virgil hates me,” Roman groans, slamming my door shut. From the noise his butt makes when it hits the ground, I guess that he’s leaned against the closed door and slid down it to rest on the floor. Instead of taking a chair, as a sane being would. </p><p> “While I could provide you with evidence to the contrary, I sense that you didn’t come to literal logic for a logical conclusion.” 
Roman removes his hands from his face and squints at me. </p><p> “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not,” he replies. “But either way, I came to you because I need someone to talk to.” I continue typing, trying not to wrinkle my brow in confusion. </p><p> “Why don’t you go to Patton? If you are having relationship issues, the heart would be much better suited to assist in these matters.” Did Roman not think this through? Why would he come to me for feeling-related problems? Doesn’t he know that I don’t feel?</p><p> “But Patton is Virgil’s best friend! I can’t just rant about his best friend to him, Patton might tell him what I said!!” </p><p> “Why do you assume I wouldn’t tell Virgil?” </p><p> “Because you’re <i>my</i> friend. Right?” he adds, looking towards me. </p><p> I turn towards him, pausing in my typing. “I consider you three to be my friends.” </p><p> “Well, do you consider me your best friend?” Roman asks. </p><p> I freeze for a second. “How does one define a “best friend”?”  Is it not enough that we’re already split between what is considered good and bad? Do we have to split ourselves between who is “best friends” with whom? And what is the difference between a “friend” and a “best friend” anyway? The existence of a “best friend” implies that there is a “worst friend” and that all other friends are ranked between them on how good they are at being friends. How does one go about being good at being a “friend”?</p><p> Roman flounders for a second. “I don’t know, maybe... Like, someone, you’d consider a friend... more?” He looks to me as if seeking approval. “Like, we’re all your friends, but who would be your first instinct to go to if you needed help?” </p><p> I consider this. Strangely, the first side to pop into my head is the tentacled-gremlin, but I’m not supposed to reveal his existence yet. If I couldn’t solve it on my own, and not including <b>[REDACTED]</b>, I suppose the side I would go to would be Roman. “You,” I tell him simply. </p><p> He perks up at this. “Yeah, so we’re best friends, so I’m coming to you so that I can have someone to talk to about how I’m feeling.” </p><p> “I suppose that I can be a metaphorical sounding board for you to help relieve your emotions. Is this a venting session or a gossip session?” </p><p> “Uh, venting, today.” </p><p> I nod. “Proceed.” </p><p> “It’s just that, Virgil can be such a bitch sometimes! He comes and asks for my help, then gets pissed over nothing and is just plain rude! I don’t understand why he’s so mean to me! I’ve been making such an effort to be nicer to him, why can’t he be nicer to me?” </p><p> “Has there been a new development in the relationship between the two of you?” Something must have happened recently; he hasn’t been this upset at Virgil in quite a while. </p><p>“Yeah, he came to my room earlier and was asking for help, then he randomly got upset at me for no reason and ran off. I don’t know why he’s such a moody bitch!” </p><p> “Asking for help? That doesn’t sound very much like Virgil.” He seems determined to do everything on his own, no matter how difficult the task. It's a trait that is sometimes admirable, but at other times stupid.</p><p> “Yeah, I was confused too, but he was asking about stuff in my area of expertise, so I thought he just realized how much better I was at handling it.” </p><p> “Possibly. It’s likely that either Virgil doesn’t know how his words affect you or that he doesn’t know a different way of interacting with people. The only other logical conclusion is that he doesn’t care at all, and after he rescued us from being trapped in his corner of the mindscape, I highly doubt that.” </p><p> “Well... that makes sense. But how am I supposed to fix it? He never listens to me when I talk to him. It’s like yelling at a brick wall.” </p><p> “Perhaps, instead of projecting your opinions onto him, you should ask his point of view and listen, instead of yell.” </p><p> Roman makes what I have come to call ’offended Princey noises’ and crosses his arms over his chest in a manner that in body language usually indicates defensiveness. “I don't <i>yell</i> at him.” </p><p> I raise an eyebrow at him. I’ve heard their interactions. From upstairs. With my door closed. With headphones on. Those two argue very loudly. </p><p> “Well, he’s yelling too, I’m just trying to be heard! And I’m loud, that’s just how I work!” </p><p> I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Roman. Healthy relationships go both ways. You both have to be quiet and listen to each other sometimes. You can’t go into a relationship thinking only about yourself, because then it isn’t a relationship about love; it is merely you using the other person for your own self-fulfillment.” </p><p> He glares at me. “I tho-” </p><p> A knock on the door interrupts him. “Hey, Logan?” Patton asks. </p><p> “Yes, Patton? What is it that you need?” </p><p> He takes this as an invitation to open the door and steps in. “So Virgil just came to me and-” he cuts himself off, noticing Roman. “O-oh, what are you doing here, Roman?”</p><p> “Roman merely came to me to vent. I’m guessing Virgil did the same to you?” </p><p> “Yeah, he did. Hey, Logan, do you think we could talk? Like, privately?” Patton says, with a glance at Roman. Roman notices and excuses himself, closing the door behind him. </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter Eight- Virgil POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I actually wrote this at the end of August but wasn't able to upload it until now! Sorry about the wait! Between college and high school and work and selling our house and moving, it will probably be at least a few weeks until I'm able to update again... I'll do my best!</p><p>Also minor panic attack tw btw</p>
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    <p> I gulp in the air, feeling as if I can’t get enough into my lungs. I feel my legs moving beneath me as I go until I’m standing in front of a bright blue door, knocking erratically. The door swings open to reveal a grinning Patton. He takes in breath to say something, but I just push past him, throwing myself onto his bed covered in stuffed animals, pillows, and soft blankets, needing the comfort. </p><p> “V-Virgil? Are you okay? Are you having another one of those anxiety attacks?” </p><p> I hear Patton’s voice but don’t register it. I’m unable to say anything, sobbing and trying to breathe as I clutch a stuffed cat to my chest. I force myself to breathe. In for four. Hold for seven. Out four. Hold four. Out another four. Repeat. A variation of the typical breathing technique that’s used for calming the body’s nervous system down, switching from something to para-something, I can’t remember exactly what Logan said. </p><p> “Virgil?” I can hear his voice distantly as if he’s at the end of a very long tunnel. I try to focus on that and my breathing to bring myself back to the present. “Virgil? Hey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.” </p><p> Being able to hear his voice helps calm me down a bit, and I try to remind myself, make myself believe his words. </p><p> “Hey, it’s okay, Virgil. Do you want uh... how about some chocolate cookies?” </p><p> I nod. That sounds pretty good. </p><p> “I’ll go get them! Why don’t you, uh, hang onto this little guy!” he says cheerfully, pushing a stuffed bat my way. I nod again, pulling the bat into my arms and squeezing it tight. Even though I don’t want to be touched, holding onto a stuffed animal is pretty comforting. Shifting my legs into a more comfortable position, I look around his room, coated in pictures and stuffed animals and blankets and memories, it’s pretty awesome. </p><p> Patton returns, whistling a cheery tune, and holding steaming cups, the cookie jar, and a blanket. He hands me a mug, which turns out to be hot chocolate, sets the jar of cookies on his nightstand, and gives me the blanket. I unfold it to see it’s a Nightmare Before Christmas blanket, but not one of mine. Where’d it come from? I didn’t think Patton was a huge fan of that movie. </p><p>I look at Patton quizzically, to which he replies, “Oh, I grabbed it from Roman’s room. He has so many, he told me I was welcome to grab one from his closet whenever I felt like it!” I nod in understanding and blow on my hot chocolate, noticing mini marshmallows floating around as the liquid sloshes around a little bit. I smile, hot chocolate and marshmallows are my favorite drink other than coffee. I set it down to wrap the plush blanket around myself, which, oddly enough, smells like the fanciful side. Huh, I didn’t realize we each had different scents. That’s much more of a human thing.</p><p> I pull the soft blanket tight around me, burying my face in it and taking a deep inhale. It smells like him, like victory and slightly like sweat, but not in a bad way. It smells like the feminine lotions he uses for his skincare routine, and his shampoo that I think is supposed to be one flower or another. It’s very comforting. I sit up a bit to have my hot cocoa in one hand, holding the blanket around me with my other. </p><p> “Do you wanna talk about what happened?” Patton asks, obviously a bit worried. </p><p> I shrug. “There isn’t much to talk about. I wanted to talk to Princey about something and he touched me when I wasn't expecting it and I freaked." </p><p> Patton furrows his brow. </p><p> “I don’t like it when people touch me without warning. Sometimes, it gives me anxiety attacks. It’s a really big fear for me,” I explain. </p><p> He nods, not quite understanding, but trying to. “Is that what happened at the last movie night, too?” </p><p> “Yeah,” I shrug, looking at a corner of his room. I don’t really like talking about it, it kind of makes me feel silly since none of the other sides seem to be as freaked out by physical touch as I am. Well, it’s not all physical touch; sometimes I’m okay with it if I’m prepared. But if I can’t prepare for it, I just get really freaked out. I’d much prefer affection and comfort to be shown differently. </p><p> “What’s going on with you and Roman? I thought you two were getting along better?” Patton asks, fiddling with the arm of a stuffed blue frog. </p><p> “I- I thought we were too. I want to make up with him, I definitely don’t like the constant conflict. I just- I don’t really know how else to treat him! Like, with you and Logan, I’ve had understandings with, and I know how to treat you guys. But with Princey, it’s just easier to be mean, I guess.” </p><p> “It’s easier to be mean than to try to change?” Patton asks, hitting the issue dead-center. I nod in agreement. “Well, sometimes, to improve where you are in a relationship, you have to take some seemingly scary risks. But don’t worry- I’m sure it will all work out in the end!” </p><p> I nod. “Thank you. That helps, really.” His words aren’t necessarily true, but they’re comforting all the same. </p><p> Patton claps his hands in delight at this. “Glad I could be of help. Now, I’m going to talk to Logan about something, feel free to hang out in ‘Nostalgic Nirvana’ or head wherever you like, okay?” </p><p> I smirk at his child-like energy and nod. “Thanks, Pop-Star.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note: The word count for each chapter is generally between 900-1500 words, except for the really short Patton POV that I really hate cause it's bad. But the next one will be Patton. It'll probably suck too cause I'm terrible at writing him lol but I'm working on it! But my point is that these chapters are a lot longer than the chapters of other stories I've attempted to write, which is good!! More content!!<br/><br/>(and for those of you who follow me on Tumblr... parents took away social media, which is why I haven't been able to access this site either. I vented about them on a different social media platform, they went through my phone and found it, and decided that all social media was a very terrible negative influence on my mental health and deactivated my accounts... so if any of you have been wondering if I'm okay, I'm doing the best I can)</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter Nine- Patton POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sweet Frank Iero- I've been working on this chapter for two freaking months now... but I've also been dealing with classes and home conflict and vehicular mishaps and friendship issues and gay panic in general so, it's not like it's for no reason.</p><p>But this Patton chapter is like, actually of similar length to the other chapters!! In addition to being longer than the last Virgil chapter (usually my longest chapters) because of the plot point I wanted to accomplish in this. This chapter went through a lot of work...</p><p>You also might notice I've added tags. I've changed where I'm going with this story a little bit. As usual, trigger warnings will be posted at the beginning of a chapter. If I miss any, please let me know!!</p>
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    <p>I stand in front of the closed door, fiddling with the sleeve of my cat hoodie. I wait as Logan turns back to his laptop, typing away at it. I hope he’s finishing something up and not ignoring me. Oh, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important with him and Roman- !</p><p> “I’m so sorry if I was interrupting you two! I can… I can go if this is a bad time,” I offer. Logan holds up a finger in my direction as a signal to wait, then goes back to typing. I stand there awkwardly for another few minutes until he closes his laptop again and spins in his desk chair toward me.</p><p> “How may I be of assistance?” His tone is rather formal and cold. Oh no, is he upset about something? Maybe I could help!!</p><p> “Are you alright, Logan?” I ask kindly.</p><p> “Of course. Why would I not be alright?”</p><p> “I-” I’m not sure if he’s being honest with me or not. But I don’t want to push it when he’s already closed off to me. “Well, I had an idea and I could use some good old logic to help me out with the details and whatnot!”</p><p> Logan’s shoulders inch away from his ears and he lets out a breath. “I actually had an idea myself,” he says, uncrossing his arms to fiddle with a pen on his desk.</p><p> “Hey! Is that- that’s the pen I got you for your birthday last year!!” I cheer, surprised that he kept it. Logan looks near me with- alarm??- in his eyes. Before I can blink though, the emotion is replaced by his usual blank stare.</p><p> “Yes, I suppose so,” he comments, looking down at it. “It is a well-conceived pen, I must admit. The ink flows smoothly, the grip is comfortable, and the cam makes a most pleasing noise to stim with.”</p><p> I grin at having done something right. “I’m so glad you enjoy it!!” I fidget with the hem of my shirt happily, watching Logan examine the pen again.
He clears his throat, startling a <i> ribbet </i> out of me. He brings his gaze near my face, the closest he’ll get to eye contact. I feel a burst of happiness, knowing that this is his way of showing me that I have most of his attention. “You were coming in here about an idea you needed help with?” he prompts.</p><p> “Oh! Yeah! So, you know how we were talking a while back about how important communication is in relationships?” I know I do, it was a late evening for me. It was one of the talks we have occasionally, about random subjects. We’ve been trying to get on the same page more often since Thomas talked to us about getting along better. I really enjoy his company; I don’t think I could ask for a better best friend.</p><p> Logan nods, gesturing for me to continue.</p><p> “Well, we both know that Virgil and Roman need some help getting along. What if we were able to get them to open up so that they can work through some of the conflicts they have between them?” Logan looks pensive at my words. “Unless that would cause some sort of backlash on Thomas- I don’t want him getting hurt! But if these two don’t work out something soon, someone’s gon-”</p><p> Logan holds up a hand, signaling for me to pause so that he can process.</p><p> It’s a moment before he speaks, but his voice is steady and deliberate when he does.</p><p> “Yes, I noticed that as well. It appears that the two are unaware of how to communicate with the other. It seems both sides are more worried about their own perspectives and feelings than the other's. They embody very different traits, and I do not see a clear way to reconcile them. As to your other question, I don’t believe that open dialogue would hurt him. If anything, other issues that are not currently visible may arise. If those are resolved, that could leave Thomas feeling better about those issues in addition to being rid of their senseless bickering.”</p><p> That makes so much sense! Logan is so smart, I don’t know what we’d do without him! As the kiddos say these days, he holds all the remaining brain cells of the group. I’m so lucky to have him as my best friend. I’m sure we can solve this together, just two blue dudes being shrewd! Ha, I’ll have to remember that one for later! </p><p> “What do we do, Logan? Should we just sit them down in the living room and make them talk to each other? Or could that make things worse? They’re a pretty stubborn pair,” I laugh.</p><p> “That course of action could either cause a breakthrough or it could make everything worse, it depends on how open they are to trying to make things better. Roman, though, doesn’t seem to see the error of his actions. Because of this, I’m not sure how well that scenario would go. However, the only other practical options I can think of are bringing it up to Thomas and trying to get him to take care of it; or just let things play out and see if they resolve it on their own or not. Neither of these options seem viable to me, for differing reasons. What do you think?”</p><p> “Well, Virgil told me that he wanted to improve his relationship with Roman, but he doesn’t really know how to. I think he doesn’t want to be nice to Roman and be rewarded with meanness. He’s scared to be hurt, I think. I get the feeling that maybe someone he trusted hurt him before, and he’s trying to avoid that. Also, I don’t want to burden Thomas with more than he has right now, that doesn’t sound like a good option. I don’t want this to keep going on, either. I don’t want them to continue to be hurt, we should at least try to do <i> something </i>.” My head is spinning with all this planning and trying to map out the future consequences of our actions. “Oh, and Virgil told me that in confidence. I’m sure Roman did too, so we should probably not let them know we kind of spilled the beans,” I add on, not wanting to lose Virgil’s trust.</p><p> “If you spill beans, you should clean them up.”</p><p> I laugh. “That’s why we won’t spill them in the first place! You know how I hate cleaning, you're my best friend after all!”</p><p> Logan smiles, just a little, and I feel my heart overflowing with the success of making him feel good. Even if it’s just a little, making him happy always makes me feel so much better!! He acts like he has no emotions, but being Thomas's heart means that I can sense <i> everyone's </i> emotions. The strong ones, anyway. But as much as Logan pretends to have no feelings, I get surges of emotions off him from time to time. They're always quickly stifled, which cannot be healthy. I wish I could help him with this, as I've been working on not suppressing emotions after the last episode. But I know from experience that if I try to talk about feelings with him, he'll shut down and politely shoo me out of his room. I wonder if he just doesn't know how to talk about emotions, that could be the issue.</p><p> I’m startled out of my thoughts as Logan goes stiff again. I tip my head to the side and open my mouth to ask if he’s alright when he stands abruptly, sending his desk chair rolling backward.</p><p> “Why don’t you go check on Virgil, see how he’s doing. You know, all the feeling-sy stuff you’re good at.” His tone is vaguely urgent; did I say something wrong? My fears from the beginning of this interaction rush back to me, leaving me very confused.</p><p> “Did I- I’m sorry Logan, whatever I said, I’m sorry, can we just-”</p><p> Logan walks over to the door and opens it, waiting for me to leave. I’m shocked by the dismissal. By being treated so rudely by someone I love. I feel pressure deep in my chest.</p><p> “Oh… okay. See you around, I guess,” I mumble as I shuffle out the door. Logan resolutely focuses on the empty corner of his room, brows set halfway between determination and exasperation. I- I didn’t know I was annoying him that much, I… I guess I should probably leave him alone for a while. I don’t want to bother him.</p><p> I may be imagining it, but I think I hear hushed whispers and something being thrown as I walk toward my room. Did I make him upset enough to throw a fit? Oh, fishsticks, why can’t I just be a good best friend?</p><p>
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</p><p> I open the door to my room to find Virgil taking a nap, curled sideways on my bed. He clutches the stuffed animals I handed him to his chest, Roman's blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. I collapse into my desk chair with a sigh. Leaning on the back of my chair, I look at Virgil. He looks very peaceful, an emotion unfamiliar on him. He's always so tense around everyone. I'm not sure if it's because he embodies anxiety or if he's just scared of being hurt. He lets out a soft snore. I really hope he doesn't still think we're going to hurt him. Sure, Roman can be a bit mean, but we're all doing our respective bests. Virgil was really helpful earlier this week during the video when we all visited my "room" in the mind palace. Without him, Roman and I might have gotten carried away and done something we’d regret later on. He really helped us a lot. I hope he realizes how much we all love him.</p><p> Roman. Roman is such a wonderful side, with so many fantastic dreams to strive for. He's so much fun! I just wish he didn't feel like he had to keep up a wall with us all the time. It's like he's constantly guarding himself against being hurt. But when have we ever hurt him? Sure, he argues with Virgil and Logan sometimes, but I've done nothing but show him love. Why do I always get such a confused, scared vibe off him? It's not like he shows it, but just as <b>[REDACTED]</b> can sense lies, I can sense feelings. It's kind of unfair because I don't want them to feel like I've violated their trust and snooped around in their feelings, but it's not something I can control, either. My abilities can be both a blessing and a curse. No! I can't think like that. My abilities are just a blessing. I am very lucky to have what family and powers that I do. I should remember to be thankful at all times.</p><p> I should be thankful for everything and everyone at all times. Even if they aren't thankful for me. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaand I established where we are in the current timeline! (between Moving On Pt 2 and the Sanders Sides 12 Days of Christmas) I have updated the other chapters to where we are, so if something doesn't line up, rereading might clarify some of that. I think I mentioned Janus at one point, but as I have finally placed this definitively in the timeline, he is now going to show up in the episode after the christmas one. he'll pop up later, but I need to get through some core-four plot points!! I have a 15-page google doc, single-spaced, of plot points that I want to hit. we've gotten through less than a page. buckle down for a very long fic!! I'll be able to update more once I establish some more things and get into the rhythm of writing as the characters; I haven't really written fanfiction in like five years. actually, I'm going to go plan out what I want in each chapter so I can give you guys an approximate chapter count...</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter Ten- Roman POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fluff and a wee bit of awkwardness!! This fic needs at least some fluff lol</p><p> </p><p>Wrote and edited most of this while regressed, hope it's not difficult to read...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m rewatching Avatar: the Last Airbender when I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.</p><p> “Hey, Logan, how did your talk with Patton go?” I ask, leaning forward in anticipation. I’m right at the part where the Blue Spirit is rescuing Aang. Or kidnapping him? I already know the answer, but it’s more fun to pretend I don’t. Logan doesn’t reply, which is a little weird. But then again, he isn’t the most normal of sides. I hear rustling in the kitchen. That’s weird. Logan usually eats lunch every day at noon; it’s not even eleven yet. I should probably check on him, but I’m right at the good part! </p><p> I watch as they leave the Pohuai Stronghold <b>(A/N TOOK ME 20 MIN TO FIND THAT NAME)</b>, the Blue Spirit’s swords around Aang’s neck. They’re retreating slowly when the couch cushions next to me bounce underneath the weight of someone dropping onto them. I jump, turning to figure out why Logan feels the need to interrupt my very important cartoon-watching when I see that it’s... Virgil? That can’t be right. Did I fall asleep on the couch again? I must be dreaming. I must have stared at him too long because he clears his throat.</p><p> “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, ducking his head so his face is out of sight. I squint, trying to figure out if I’m dreaming or not. </p><p> “I thought you were Logan eating lunch early,” I tell him, turning back to the TV to see that I’ve missed one of my favorite parts of this episode and Aang is now feeding frogs to his friends. Dammit, I missed an interesting part! I could rewind it, but I’m already watching the part after, and I don’t wanna rewatch that. Why did Virgil have to interrupt me? I was just fine by myself; also, I thought he was mad at me for no reason? “Aren’t you like, mad at me, or something?” I ask. </p><p> “Am I not allowed to like Avatar just because you were rude?” he retorts. I scowl but don’t look his way. He sighs, then continues. “We did achieve our goal, even though we didn’t work together.” </p><p> “How’s that, Gerard Gay?” I ask, turning to him. He resolutely stares at the screen as the credits roll. </p><p> “We wanted to get the two together, and they had a private talk. Seems like a step in the right direction.” He fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie as he talks, the only sign he’s even anxious at all. The light from the screen changes, turning his fair skin a blue-ish tint. His eyes appear almost indigo and turquoise, his hair a more indigo shade. </p><p> “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” I reply, turning to see the beginning of the next episode. This is the one with Aunt Wu! I love this one! </p><p> “How, exactly was I rude?” I ask him, referencing his earlier comment. “Not- not like to demean you or anything, but I really don’t see how I was rude earlier.” <i>You were the one who yelled and stomped off</i>, I don’t add. </p><p> He sighs, beginning to chew on his thumb before stopping himself and staring at his lap. “If you could like... in the future, not touch me without permission, that’d be great.” I tilt my head, confused. Is he... talking about when I brushed his hair out of his eyes?? I like, <i>barely</i> touched him! I wouldn’t even count that as a touch! And he’s <i>mad</i> at me for <i>that</i>?? His reaction was based on me brushing his hair off his forehead? That makes no sense whatsoever. </p><p> I'm about to tell him that when I remember what Logan was telling me earlier. About relationships taking both sides listening and communicating. I sigh and swallow what I was going to say. "Alright, I'll do my best to remember that in the future." Virgil turns towards me, looking shocked. "What?" I ask. Did I say something wrong? I'm just trying to follow Logan's advice- oh maybe I should have gone to Patton instead, would that have helped more? </p><p> "No, it's just- nothing, it's nothing. Thank you," Virgil turns back to the TV, watching Aunt Wu give the gaang their readings. I stare at him, surprised. He almost never thanks me for anything. He's stopped fidgeting, so he must feel a little better. Maybe Logan's advice did work? </p><p> "You know? Sometimes it seems like we could make a pretty great team," he adds, finally making eye contact. His mismatched eyes look bright, almost luminescent in this light. He looks... hopeful? Not a look I'm used to from the emo, but one I kind of enjoy. I flash my best grin at him, and he gives me a small smile back. I'm enamored by his smile, the way one side hitches up slightly more than the other. It feels like the breath has been knocked out of me at the pure happiness on his face at this moment. I'm held captive until he drops my gaze and turns back to the screen. I look over his shoulder, gazing at nothing as my heart rate and body temperature go back to normal. </p><p> And to think, he stole my heart with just one smile. </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter Eleven- Logan POV</h2></a>
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    <p> "Excuse me?? Patton and Roman are your best friends now? Am I nothing to you?" </p><p> I let out a breath, rolling my eyes. "You're being ridiculous." </p><p> "No, I'm being jealous. There's a difference." </p><p> I sigh again. "If you must know, I consider you more a friend than Roman or Patton. By Roman's standards, I would be my best friend. You would be second, though." </p><p> He seems surprised by this. "Well... okay. Then, good. Good! I better be!" </p><p> "May I go back to work now?" </p><p> "You're, so boring, teacher man. You need to learn how to have fun sometimes!" </p><p> "Noted. I'm going to get back to work now." </p>
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          <p>97 words just to clarify what happened a chapter ago. Next chapter will be longer</p>
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